


My Army

by Sendek



Series: Great Skeleton War [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gaster Blaster (Undertale), Child Soldiers, F/F, F/M, Medical Experimentation, Medical Trauma, Revenants, TrioBlasterSet AU, Veteran Gaster, Veteran Grillby (Undertale), Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2020-12-27 00:42:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21109871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sendek/pseuds/Sendek
Summary: Monsterkind had nearly been wiped out in the Human-Monster War, left prostate after being trapped under Mt. Ebott.Wing Dings Gaster thinks he has an answer to both of these problems.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [airbeartrash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/airbeartrash/gifts).

> The TrioBlasterSet AU belongs to its owners, Antares10 and NamekianMaoh.

It was in the midsummer of June when the Ebott Kingdom came under the attack of its eastern neighbor, the United States of America.

Washington, confident in its abilities, launched an invasion deep into the Monster heartlands where several columns of 3.1 million men overran vast tracts of the Kingdom's western provinces and marched toward the Monster capital of Ebott City. The Americans' ultimate aim was to occupy the whole of the Ebott Kingdom to resettle the sparsely populated areas with their excess population and exploit its rich resources. Unfortunately for them, King Dremurr III and Monsterkind had other plans.

Despite their heavy losses, the Royal Guard continued launching counterattack after counterattack against American troops and inflicted a heavy casualty rate on par with their own by the time American forces neared Ebott City. In combination with the counteroffensive at Topeka, Denver and Cheyenne, the earnest and rapid mobilization of Ebott's plentiful pool of reservist and industrial resources contributed to the reversals that the Americans faced around those sites but most importantly, at Ebott City. It helped that the Yankees had bled themselves white in their initial attempts to move into the Rocky Mountains and with the rising tide of unconventional resistance amongst Monsters under American occupation, the Ebott Kingdom had been given just enough time to reinforce the Dremurr Defense Line with well-trained and well-equipped men from across the realm. The Battle of Ebott City was a smashing victory on the Royal Guardsmen's part, repulsing several American offensives aimed at taking the capital and forcing the Royal government to capitulate.

These attempts ostensibly failed with the Royal Guardsmen beginning to retake swathes of land with the close support of the Royal Air Force and Royal Armored Corps, forcing back the previously victorious Americans and threatening to push them past the Rockies. Thus, it is not at all surprising that Washington, terrified at the prospect of having to conclude a peace with Ebott City after investing so much into the invasion and even more so at the mere thought of losing in the upcoming elections, resorted to a more . . . _unconventional_ means of snatching victory from the jaws of defeat.

However, it would have negative repercussions on the world around the two nations for decades, if not centuries, to come as the American government made the decision to break the vows that had been concluded after the Great Revenant War (more popularly known as the Great Skeleton War) and unleash a terrible threat on the Ebott Kingdom.

* * *

Wing Dings Gaster couldn’t help but swear profusely as Yankee bullets tore into the bodies of the 101st “Screamin’ Skeletons” while their mortar rounds shrieked and narrowly missed or hit their targets with startling accuracy, the soldiers advancing in spite of the opposition before them. One Skeleton that he vaguely remembered to be a Serif from the Pacific collapsed to the ground limply, his skull having been turned to dust when an American machine gun tore it apart with a burst of fire and caused the corpse to drop their national flag. Gaster scowled at this, shouldering his rifle’s weight and pouncing for the Revenant flag as several more Skeletons collapsed into dust nearby, proudly bearing it and keeping in step with the rest of his brothers as they thrusted their bayonets into the general direction of the Yankees whose panicked yelling could be heard over the noises of war.

Gaster couldn’t help but beam in pride when he was the first to make it to the top of the hill and was tempted to plant the Revenant flag over the shattered remains of Roosevelt’s Pennsylvanian troops, jumping down from a parapet and into the trench when he halted to take in the sight before him.

The Yankees were turning on each other, wildly firing their rifles and submachine guns from the hip as their bolder counterparts lunged at them and brought them down with their bare hands. He blinked in surprise and growing horror once he realized that – oh, dear Lord – _they were eating each other_. Yankees covered in magical dust, the remains of Monster and Revenant alike after they had attempted to breach the 99th Pennsylvanian Infantry Regiment’s lines, were sinking their teeth into the flesh of their comrades and tearing away chunks of meat to feast upon. Others went further, disemboweling them with their jaws and fingers to dine on their intestines, several even going as far as to rip the stomach out of one Yankee _that was still alive_ and fight for the organ amongst the others. That same Yankee looked to Gaster with his outstretched hands feebly reaching for the Skeleton, repeatedly mouthing the word, “Help."

Gaster was unable to do much other than stare at the terrifying sight that was the enemy’s trenches, scrambling to back away from the several Yankee cannibals that had finally taken notice of him and yelped when they lunged to tackle him. A controlled burst of machine gun fire from above him burrowed into their torsos, the force of the bullets knocking them down as Ghoul – the Irishman with the Gaelic Type Font – leapt into the trench to join him. It didn’t take long for him to notice the sheer chaos before him and reel just as Gaster had done, especially once the Yankee cannibals rose to their feet in spite of the bloody holes in their midsections that would’ve killed any normal Human and moved to lunge once again. One of them tackled Ghoul, knocking the breath out of the Irishman and the light machine gun out of his hands as they fell to the ground tussling with one another. An otherworldly groan drew his attention from the ensuing fight, the two other cannibals stumbling toward him and their blank eyes staring through his Soul.

He scrambled to unsheathe his prized pistol, one he’d gotten from an American officer in the 1st Battle of Ebott City, firing three rounds into the corpse’s chest. Unfortunately for him, the cannibal was dead-set on making Gaster his next victim and the pistol’s bullets had little effect on what was dawning on him to be a feral Revenant. The Yankee roughly grabbed his shoulders, shoving him to the ground and swinging open his jaws to reveal a stench that reeked of Death like this infernal beast from the depths of Hades. The cannibal went in, attempting to swing his jaws close around where the Skeleton’s windpipe would be and bit into nothing but air as Gaster flailed around wildly, denying the Revenant his meal.

Gaster felt around wildly for his sheathed bayonet, yanking the blade from his belt and shoved it into the side of the Yankee's head, causing it to go limp on top of him. He laid there for a few seconds before scrambling to shove the corpse off of him and wrench the bayonet from its head, stumbling to his feet and snatching his pistol from the ground to shoot the oncoming Revenant. The bullet sung true and hit the Yankee Revenant between his eyes, making it fall to the ground lifelessly as he looked over to his friend. By then, Ghoul had managed to whip out one of his stick grenades and use it as if it were a club to bash in the Yank's face until a pool of blood had gathered and bits of brain were dribbling out of the opening in the now-dead Yankee's skull. Stumbling over to his friend, Gaster pulled him off the corpse and smacked Ghoul across the face, earning his own smack to the skull and a dagger being pressed against his vertebra as the Irishman's fiercely glowing eyes focused on him.

They stayed that way for a few more seconds as Ghoul's vibrant dark blue eyes bored into his Soul and his breathing continued erratically, Gaster's pupils instead focused on the blade threatening to cut his head from his shoulders and attempting to ignore that he was trembling. A minute later, Ghoul's dark blue eyes faded in place of their normal white pinpricks and the dagger was lowered from Gaster's throat, the latter bringing up a free hand to touch the cut and winced at the magic-infused marrow dripping from said cut. The silence was eventually broken by the clamoring of the rest of the 101st who'd been just as surprised as the two but reacted quickly, going for the head before the undead Yankees could take advantage of their shock and allowed the Screamin' Skeletons to reinforce their position in time for their overconfident American counterparts to saunter in to take over what they assumed had been a bloodbath for the 101st, only to be met with a nasty surprise.

* * *

Dremurr's government had been sent reeling back at the discovery that the Americans had been insane enough to release feral Revenants en masse, the latter's tactics proving to be way too effective against Monster troops who'd already been exhausted by the incessant fighting for the past several months. Entire divisions disintegrated in their attempts to fall back to the rear echelon in a disorganized manner and the existing distrust of Revenants only grew, alongside the reported sightings of strange Humanoid beings that whetted their appetites by feasting on entire villages. It seemed that the stereotypes of Revenants being little else then ravenous corpses rising from the depths of Hades itself were correct.

The Royal Guard's failure to hold in the face of the hordes had left the path to Ebott City open, ripe for the taking in the eyes of the Joint Chiefs of Staff as the Royal High Command moved to marshal its remaining units for the defense of the capital. It wasn't long before Ebott City was transformed from the pride and joy of Monsterkind into an open grave for 4 million men, each side pumping entire field armies into holding their sections of the city as legions of men were chewed up and spat out within a month of fighting. In spite of those increasing demands that the Revenant formations be demobilized and barred from entering service, the King sent the 101st "Screamin' Skeletons" to reinforce the Imperial Bodyguard. 

Despite the valiant efforts of the Royal Guard, they were not able to hold onto the city in the face of American firepower and Washington’s willingness to deploy those same feral Revenants if Monster resistance was particularly tough and their losses heavy. After nearly a year of fighting, the Royal Guard units at Ebott City were overwhelmed by the combined hordes of undead and living Americans who raised their flag over the Royal Palace while King Dremurr and what remained of his government fled to Home in the western California province. 

With the collapse of the Royal Guard across the frontlines, Dremurr managed to maintain the cohesion of the Guardsmen during their fighting retreat as Yankee soldiers eagerly pursued them with the hopes of driving them into the Pacific. It all reached a climax at Home City - the original point where the Ebott Kingdom had established itself in its early years and where the first Dremurr had turned the Kingdom into an Empire - where a decisive battle ended in American victory. 

The remnants of the Ebott Kingdom fled deep into the vast interior of Mt. Ebott, preparing for one final fight to the death when it seemed that the Yankees were to slaughter them, only to be offered peace terms. The American General which had approached the Monsters was all too aware of the fact that attempting to take the mountain would need the lives of too many men and wanted little more than to go home. Thus, an agreement was reached in the final days of the war - make yourselves scarce under Mt. Ebott or be wiped out as an entire species. 

It took little prompting from King Dremurr and his government to agree to the terms imposed as they hurriedly shuffled the remains of their civilization under the mountain and seven mages sealed them away. It seemed that the Monsters were fated to rot away under this mountain, resigning themselves to the death of their civilization and to never see the Surface again. 

However, one Skeleton had something to say about that. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gaster attempts to make it to Mt. Ebott.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for racial slurs and implications of discrimination.

Gaster couldn't help but swear in Hands when he dragged himself out of the river, shouting obscenities that would've made even Ghoul blush as he clawed his way onto dry land. His eyes flickered wildly between purple and yellow at the panic that threatened to overtake his very SOUL, exchanging the swearing for greedily gulping in deep breaths of oxygen. Even though they didn't need air to survive, it was a calming, rhythmic and even cathartic practice for Skeletons so it succeeded in calming him down enough for him to let the panic abide so that he could focus. Gaster coughed up some water that'd been sloshing around in his skull, shuddering at the uncomfortable feeling before looking around to see whether or not he knew where he was. 

The imposing figure of Mt. Ebott in the distance provided a comforting reassurance, if somewhat fleeting when he remembered exactly why he needed to go there. In the meantime, Gaster had a forest to his back and the river to his front, absentmindedly scratching at the itchy feeling on his bones that was the soaked uniform's doing and turned around to see that it seemed a battle had raged on behind him. Several artillery pieces had been stationed at the edge of the river but looked to be half-destroyed and were on fire, surrounded by empty shells still smoking from the heat of being fired and Gaster's eye-lights shrunk at the sudden realization that the fine grain covering them was magical dust. The same dust'd been present in the river and _was the thing making his bones itch_, something that caused his eye-lights to wink out of existence and his permanent smile to strain at the edges. The Skeleton just shuddered and felt sick to his non-existent stomach before snapping to attention in alarm at the sound of distant gunfire, shouts in the distance that seemed too close and too _Human_ for comfort. 

Thinking quickly, Gaster looked for something he could use to defend - really, he could take anything at this point. He was relieved to find his pistol strapped to his waist, pulling it out to check for any damage and tapping the wet magazine against the thick bark of a fallen tree in an attempt to make sure it still worked. Shoving the ammunition into his sidearm and elated at discovering it did indeed work, Gaster hastily scanned the surrounding area in silence and was taken aback at the intermittent flashes in between the trees. Something shouted in a bitter tone reminiscent of the English language and Gaster decided right there and then that now was a good time to leave. Especially when bullets tore through the air and nearly took off his skull, ricocheting into the trees aside him as the Skeleton sprinted from the scene and could've sworn a grenade had gone off behind him.

The shouting continued and for some reason, Gaster made the decision to cast a glance over his shoulder and almost immediately wished he hadn't. Humanoid figures burst through the cover of the forest, yelling for him to stop while also firing their rifles and submachine guns in his general direction. Gaster yelped when a burst of fire from he thought may have been a Tommy gun brushed his leg, letting a thin stream of magic-infused marrow drip down his leg and hissed at the pain blossoming from the small cut. With a wave of his hand, Gaster conjured a group of femurs whose ends had been sharpened and sent them rocketing through the air toward the Humans, smirking to himself when he heard cries of surprise and pain. He couldn't help but let out a peal of bitter yet shrieking cackle at the intensified spray of fire attempting to kill him, cackling cut to a halt as one of the shots tore through his uniform and narrowly brushed his spine. The pain in his leg was joined by the sudden pain in his back, urging Gaster to bark out filthy curses in his accented English at them and run faster before he got himself killed.

It finally occurred to him that he had a gun of his own right in his hand and Gaster threw up another wave of bones, this time the femurs bursting from the ground to weather a hail of bullets that slowly chipped away at the shield and he grimly marveled at how quickly it was eating through his magic reserves to maintain it. The Skeleton peaked out from behind his cover, firing sporadically at the figures who were gaining way too quickly on him and had taken to hiding behind trees to wear down his cover by firing at his wall. Gaster's hopes were raised when one of his rounds hit home and saw one of them fall to the ground lifelessly, remaining intact and showing no signs of turning to dust as their buddy dragged him to safety. At least he wasn't firing at a Monster or Gods forbid, a Revenant, he mused silently. Gaster was pulled out of his thoughts when he peaked out once again and the pistol gave him a barely audible _chic_, signaling that the pistol was empty and he panicked while looking for another magazine. 

Unable to find one, Gaster shouted in frustration and flung the pistol as far as he could in the direction of the Americans, sliding to the ground against the surface of the shuddering wall that threatened to break under the duress of Yankee guns. He couldn't do much if he wanted to keep up his magic reserves until he made it to Ebott and his eye-lights rapidly flicked around from place to place to see if he could use something, _anything_. Gaster threw himself to the ground, keeping as flat as possible to the ground when his barrier finally broke under the stress and the approaching American soldiers hollered in joy that were closing in on Gaster. He sent out a wave of his magic, attempting to sense the SOULs of the Yankees moving toward him with surprisingly little caution and grinned when he sensed the one leading them was the closest and reached out with his blue magic. Gaster knew he'd latched onto it with the audible gasp that the Yankee had made, no doubt at the sudden manifestation of his SOUL and at the feeling of blue magic gripping it.

Shooting up from the grass, Gaster pulled out his trusty bayonet and bared it to the Yankee's throat, the cold metal of the sharpened blade pressing to the soft. The boy was young, shockingly young and looking like he'd just been pulled out of training camp and sent to the frontlines. '_Looks like Roosevelt's getting desperate_,' Gaster mused to himself, '_Even the "Arsenal of Democracy" can't deal with us _and_ the Ferals._' In a thick accent, Gaster switched from his native Wing-Dings to English, "Let me go or the kid gets it." and couldn't help but internally take pride in the way they doubled back at a Revenant's ability to speak English - fluently, no less. 

One of them stepped forward to speak, a curly-haired brunette with a large, hooked nose and dark brown eyes that bore into his, "Sergeant Thomas Washington. I'm sure we can reach a deal here as civilized people." Upon hearing this, Gaster barely managed to suppress a bitter laugh at the officer's approach and let his eye-sockets become doused in darkness, speaking in a tone practically dripping with sarcasm, "Oh, that's real rich coming from a damned _Yank_ of all people. Tell me, what happened to all those Revenants living in Louisiana in 1803? Or those Skeletons coming to America in 1861? Or better yet, what you did to your Indians and what y'all continue to do to your Negroes?" 

Gesturing to the Black soldier standing behind the officer with the bayonet's tip and a strained smirk, "Y'know, you'd think the same country that constantly brags about freedom and democracy and only _now_ they make Whites fight with Coloreds? Kinda fucked up if you ask me." The Black soldier simply wrinkled his nose at Gaster and spat at his feet, leading the Skeleton to simply chuckle but that soon stopped when the Black soldier hummed in a baritone voice, "Real funny comin' from a Goddamned _Decor_ of all things." as Gaster glared at his use of that infamous slur. What else was their Halloween and its decorations a mere mockery of Revenant culture and the American victories in the Great Revenant War anyway? It did little to stop Gaster from hissing in anger at the insult, unknowingly pressing the bayonet into the boy's neck and drawing blood as Gaster opened his mouth for a retort.

Another soldier, this time a shorter figure with swarthier features looking like he was from Latin Europe, didn't hesitate to raise his rifle so his sights could line up with Gaster's skull and sneered in a stereotypical New York accent, "Youse better let 'im go or I'll send you back to Hell myself, Decor." The Skeleton bristled at the repeated use of the insult and moved to press the blade just deep enough for blood to slowly trickle down his skin, Gaster hissing back at him with narrowed eye-sockets and scintillating pupils that flashed blue and purple with a hint of scarlet, "Call me a Decor again, _Dago_. See what happens." The two seemed ready to lunge at each other before the officer shouted, "That's enough, _Benito_." At this, the Skeleton couldn't help but laugh while 'Benito' shot a nasty glare at Sgt. Washington and angrily muttered something under his breath that Gaster managed to make to sound something like, "Fuckin' Hebrew." before he turned around and fired his rifle.

Right into Gaster's eye-socket and through his skull.

The force of the shot knocked him onto the ground and Gaster screeched in the warbling static that was Hands, reaching up to grip his eye-socket and with his good eye, Gaster saw the magic-infused marrow that covered his hand and continued screeching. Above him, Washington pushed Benito and yelled at him before Benito yelled back and Washington decked him, Benito's wild haymaker being prevented from connecting by the Negro soldier. He said something but Gaster could make out much with a rifle butt making contact with the back of his skull and knocking him unconscious.

Ah. Well.

That could've gone better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The term Decor is a reference to Specialminds' Fonttale AU which I strongly recommend you read. Basically, it's a reference to how Skeletons are Halloween decorations and more so alluding to an implication that the Fonts are little else than uncivilized savages.

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter was mostly intended to be exposition about the background of the Surface and I'll be delving into the interesting stuff indicated in the tags over the next few chapters if anyone's interested.


End file.
